A Twisted World
by amelieelizabet
Summary: When Harry Potter disappears from the Wizarding World, the Potions Master who hides a heart and the shy, bookworm, closet musician with a secret must combine uncomfortable forces to find the Boy Who Lived...
1. Chapter 1  Revelations

A/N: hey there! This is my first SS fic that I decided was fit for you guys... but bear with me here. I love Severus Snape, so it will be very becoming on his part, and he may be a tiny bit OOC. But I love him and I have the sarcasm, if not accurate, but in full force. Its not based on any particular theme, and will of course wander a bit. I just had to get one up here. HGSS seemed the most appropriate, compared to my many other SS pairings I love. Really it is just ANYTHING with Severus Snape in.

P.S It is completely in my own world, probably most accurately following only from the GoF, but even then changes must be made so my story will be... in one word, awesome :) anyway enough with the psycobabble, on with the fic! :)

Amelie

**A Twisted World Chapter 1**

He didn't want this life, not any more.

Harry Potter was done. He wanted to give up his life as the almighty Boy Who Lived. He hated being anything but a normal teenage boy. He hated what he had done.

"Mr Potter, Professor Dumbledore needs to speak to you in the infirmary. I suggest Miss Granger goes with you. Prepare yourselves, please," Professor McGonagall lilted, her face grave and eyes tight. They hurried to the hospital wing, anxious to know who was bedridden, anxious to know what Dumbledore needed. Harry had a feeling in his gut; it was a friend.

As they arrived in the infirmary Harry faltered. Dumbledore was standing in the middle of the room but there was no twinkle in his eye, no laugh lines on his timeless face. He absently noticed the curtains drawn around one of the beds.

"Harry," Dumbledore greeted solemnly. "I must ask you to prepare yourself for whosoever lies behind the curtain. He is... fatally injured. Madam Pomfrey estimates he will not last the night, but Professor Snape is to ascertain this for us shortly." Harry pushed past the headmaster and wrenched back the curtains; Ron.

"Oh God, Ron!" He cried, gazing upon the unconscious boy lying in the bed. His hair was matted and his face maimed and covered blood in various stages of clotting from cuts on his face. He was feverish, shuddering in his sleep. Hermione screamed when she saw the state of her best friend, losing the strength to stand. It was only the sudden appearance of the Potions Master that saved her from hitting the stone floor and causing young Potter to have two friends in beds. Snape lowered her into the chair by Weasley's bed. "Professor, what happened to him? Professor?" Harry turned desperately to the loathed teacher, and then to his headmaster.

"It seems young Mr Weasley has been poisoned by a Death Eater's magic. It seems to be the work of Bellatrix Lestrange; she had a penchant for these sort of curses," Snape drawled as he checked Ron's chart and his vitals. "Albus, may I speak to you alone?" Dumbledore nodded, and they moved to the other side of the room. "This is definitely Bellatrix's work, and the most severe kind. I'm afraid there is no antidote. Poppy's assumption was correct; he will not survive more than three hours." Dumbledore shook his head, and although Severus Snape let no emotion plague his voice, he was slightly saddened by the school's loss. _Not that my potions class will suffer,_ he thought dryly.

"Harry, my boy, I am so dreadfully sorry. Madam Pomfrey was correct. You may want to say your goodbyes now." Dumbledore whispered softly as he rejoined the pair by the bed. It was a terrible time for the two of them, and although he wanted to lend support the wizened headmaster felt it best to leave them be. "Come, Severus, it may be time to have a talk."

"H-Harry?" Ron rasped, his eyes fluttering open. Harry knew he was fighting the effects of a very strong curse, and an even stronger sleeping draught.

"Ron! Hermione and I are here for you, don't you worry," he reassured desperately.

"I'm dying aren't I?" he wheezed. "Fred and George won't be happy about this; they'll have no one to tease," his attempt at humour just made Hermione cry harder, and he motioned them over. She sat on his bed, stroking his face.

"Ron, you can't do this to us! What were you thinking tackling Bellatrix like that?" She sobbed, tracing his features with her fingertips. They may have had many arguments over their seven years as friends but she loved him dearly, as much as she loved Harry. To see him there was heartbreaking for the both of them.

"She's dead, 'Mione, she's dead and not going to bother you anymore. I killed her and... Got the last horcrux. You can kill V-Voldemort now, Harry, and save the rest of them. Save Ginny, save Mum, hell save S-Snape if you can. Just save our world, Harry. You're my b-best f-friend and... y-you too 'Mione... I l-love you b-both so much... tell m-mum... not to w-worry?" He was getting weaker and his eyes were closing more and more frequently for longer periods of time.

"Tell her yourself, Mr Weasley," Professor McGonagall said as she strode in behind the distraught Molly.

"Ron! Oh Ron!" She screamed, throwing herself at the floor by his bed. It was hard enough for her to have lost the twins to the joke business and Charlie to Romania, now it was Ron to the next world, so much worse and so much more permanent. "Why were you so stupid? You... Oh..." Molly was incoherent, crying over her youngest son.

"Mum, d-don't worry about me, o-okay? D-don't grieve... I l-love y-you all..." With that statement, Ronald Bilius Weasley drew his last breath.

The sombre attitude of the bereaved permeated the whole castle, in particular the disused classroom that Hermione used as her music room. She had, with her more than capable transfiguration skills, made a piano out of a desk, the bench out of a chair, and was playing solemnly, tears streaming down her face. She let all her frustration and anger out on the keys, improvising the piece as she had once been taught back when everything was... normal. Back when she was a Muggle, when she knew nothing of magic, of the Dark Lord, of _any _of this. It was easier then, and for one selfish moment, she yearned to have it back. That moment passed quickly though; here in the Wizarding World she was in her element, Muggleborn or not, she was an excellent witch and one that far exceeded many of the expectations set by her peers.

* * *

Weary, horrified, weak, Severus Snape struggled through the halls of the school just hoping he could make it down to the dungeons before unconsciousness overtook him. He hated death eater meetings. They always left him drained, tired and completely disgusted with the Dark. That night they had done such dreadful things his mind was already blocking them out. As he struggled to the stairs leading to his chambers he heard, with great surprise, strains of melancholy music floating from the old Muggle Studies room. The Muggle Studies class had been relocated to near the Astronomy Tower so it was empty and disused. Severus felt a compulsion to find the source of the music, the sad but relaxing tunes helping to ease the tension of the evening. Luckily he wasn't called to the meetings all too often but when he did it was sickening; he just wished for the whole war to be over for good, so he could be in peace one way or another. He had a feeling he wouldn't survive much longer; good luck and quick wit could only last for so long. It was alright, though, he didn't have anyone to leave behind, no legacy to complete or expectations to fulfil. He could go, with an unmentioned act of sadistic heroism, _not with a bang, but with a whimper_. It would suit the old Potions Master very much.

As he drew closer to the source of the music he shed his Death Eater robes and peeked around the doorframe to see none other than the insufferable Miss Granger, playing a... _piano?_ To the Potion Master's knowledge there were none such instruments in the castle, especially in a Muggle Studies classroom. Perhaps her theoretical knowledge on anything and everything managed to manifest in a transfigured piano. The Professor sagged against the frame and closed his eyes, letting the wonderful melody seep into his being and lessened the pain that rendered him close to death. He let it soften his mind and let him compartmentalise the part of him he most loathed but had to keep. He had no idea that Miss Granger's music would be so effective; normally it would take three or four calming draughts and two dreamless sleep potions before he could begin to fall into a restless slumber.

* * *

Hermione never realised, engrossed in the music as she was, that she had an audience. It was only when he let out a muffled groan of pain that she realised he was there, unable to stand any longer. He had, stupidly, used all his energy to listen to the beautiful sounds coming from beneath Miss Granger's fingertips, and suddenly couldn't stand for a second longer. With lightening reflexes Hermione shot over and caught the injured professor, lowering him carefully to the floor. It was with dry humour that he remembered not a week before it had been him saving her from hitting the floor, and he choked out a chuckle.

"Now, Miss Granger, I think we are even on the catching front," he whispered, exhausted and fully ready to just stay on this comfortable stone floor to sleep. _Funny,_ he realised, _I can never remember a meeting that afterwards I haven't needed several damnable potions to send me to oblivion. _Hermione let out a breathless laugh, sitting next to her Potions teacher. It was odd, this situation, but she wasn't complaining; she had long since had a fascination in the man that sat before her. Now she was seeing a side of him she doubted many had seen; the man in between roles of Professor and Death Eater.

"What brings you to my lonely corner of the world, Professor?" She asked tenderly. He was sorely bruised and had a smattering of cuts decorating the skin visible. He looked repulsed with something as well... perhaps it was her? She pushed the thought aside when he began to answer.

"Order business..." He began to reply wearily when Hermione interrupted him.

"Don't 'Order business' me, Professor, you know as well as I do that Harry and I are now members of the Order and have every right to know what is going on. Now do you care to explain?"

"I really do not think that is the tone to take with your teacher, Miss Granger, 5 points from Gryffindor. You may be a member of the Order but here at school your status as student precedes any other status you may adopt. I do not appreciate your false concerns, nor do I know what absurdities led you to be vandalising school property," To Hermione's ears the insults would have been more hurtful were they not lacking their patronising tone and if it was not so obvious that he was struggling to bite out the words. However this was not a good subject for the unknowing man to have stumbled upon.

"I was here, _professor_," she stated coldly, respectful but icy at the same time. "To try to release some of the grief I have over the extremely recent death of my best friend. Harry is distraught about it and I have to remain strong for him so any form of release I can get I willingly take. I am allowed out of the dorms at this time because I have the privilege of being Head Girl, and for your information this is not vandalism as I can quite easily reverse the spell. Consider it, if you must, Transfiguration practice. I am putting my loss to good, practical use so I can stay strong for my only friend I have left. I asked you because I was concerned over your welfare as you have a worrying number of injuries and wanted to know what put you in such a terrible state of mind; terrible even for you. But forget I even asked Professor, I bid you goodnight." She stood up, transfigured the piano and stool back, and swept out of the room. Guilt wracked her body as she walked away from the man but she forced herself to keep walking, determined to prove a point. She was sure he would make it until morning, but she knew her rounds took her past the room once more, which she was glad for. When she went past the room, he was gone.

* * *

Snape was furious. How dare a student talk to him like that? No matter that it was one he saw more than most, but still, the lack of respect Granger had shown him was astounding. She had been hanging around Potter and Weasley too much. Weasley. What an interesting dilemma. Her voice had been full of pain when she had spoken of the late boy, leaving the Potions Master quite ashamed, not that he would ever admit it. Of course she had some intellectual way of coping with bereavement, unlike the imbecilic young girls she shared a year with. And the boys. It was evident in all manners of her life that had been exposed to the Professor that she was vastly emotionally mature and so would not sit crying on her bed with chocolate to relieve herself of the immense sadness but instead seek out a different, more productive method. It was, in hindsight, obvious she would in some shape or form incorporate school work into the procedure.

Still, Snape rendered himself emotionless and put his pain away in his head, reducing his state of mind to a dull ache, so he could rise. He unsteadily limped the rest of the way to his chambers, where he collapsed and gave in to the pure agony the nature of his life entailed.

He knew when Miss Granger passed the room on her rounds that it would calm her slightly to know he could move himself away. Even if it was this thought of making her less worried that enabled him to move.

Severus Snape did not know what to think of that.


	2. Chapter 2 Wonderment

A/N: Okay so this is a very fast update and normally it won't be this fast. I just had the urge. I hope you like it. I do like reviews, by the way, they make me very happy and smiley :D

Read on!

* * *

It was not the pain of loss that made Harry distance himself from the world, it was Hermione. Her words, her smile, her attitude all changed one week after the event. It was as if her reaction to Ron's passing was delayed, but he knew better. He knew she grieved as much as he did at the wedding, but he also realised she tried to keep all of this hidden from him, to remain a pillar of strength for him to cling to. She was breaking inside, though. She was becoming depressed.

Hermione never considered herself a person easily affected by her peers' opinions, not any more. She had become comfortable in her own skin, with her own talents, but then, suddenly, one vague conversation with Severus Snape led to her whole composure slowly crumbling, stripping back years of maturity to reveal nothing more than a vulnerable little girl once more. She knew what was happening to her but couldn't stop the depression seeping in. She stopped paying attention in classes, she stopped making conversation with the other Gryffindorians. She still played her piano, still in the Muggle Studies room, but Severus Snape hadn't bothered her since that night. She never played jovial music anymore, she never ventured into the realm of romantic. All she could play was the funeral march played at Ron's funeral. Over and over, it was repeated until midnight, the solemn tune weaving its way into the inky black pits of her mind.

Potions was one lesson she refused to change in, though. To change in his lesson was to prove that he had managed to break her, and it would be a complete disaster to have Professor Snape know he had broken the Know It All Granger. She still put her hand up, still brewed perfect potions, still helped Neville and Harry. There had been one incident, though, when she had to run.

"_Once again, the instructions are on the board, you may begin, you have the hour, blah blah blah." Snape drawled, waving a wand at the board where the instructions, as always, appeared. Hermione gathered the ingredients, set up her cauldron, and was well on the way to finishing perfectly when she heard the Professor yell at Neville._

"_Must you be such a blithering idiot? I clearly stated, in the instructions, to only use __**one**__ mandrake root, not two! And I was under the impression that this class would improve due to the removal of the most incompetent fool in the room; you prove me, for once, wrong, Mr Longbottom. You have taken the mantle of Bumbling Dunderhead from Mr Weasley's not long dead hands. How impatient of you." With this scathing remark he swept off, only to turn back when a loud explosion sounded from behind him. The room took a few seconds to clear the smoke, which was when the Potions Master realised Miss Granger had disappeared. Scowling to himself, he ordered the class to continue, ignoring the deadly look on Potter's face. Granger had more than enough skill in Potions for the Professor to know that was not an accidental explosion; it was a diversion and an escape route. The door slowly closed, and the Professor nodded at Potter._

"_Go after her, Potter, make sure she doesn't do anything reckless," Snape drawled._

"_What like completely insulting and degrading her only recently passed best friend? Oh don't you worry Professor, I have a heart and common sense; I wouldn't dream of it." And with that particular remark, poisonous enough to make Snape slightly proud – his influence was rubbing off on the Potter boy – Harry dashed off to find his devastated friend. He had seen her tears through the smoke, being next to her as he was, and knew where to find her._

It was stupid that she kept herself living in Potions alone, but she did it. This was helped by the ever-remaining morbid curiosity about the Potions Master teaching her N.E.W.T level work. Not that she needed it; she had studied this level since her fourth year, one of the reasons why her teachers let her remain comatose in their lessons. Even so, even in potions she could not conjure up the living spark she used to have in her eyes. This worried the man more than he would ever let on.

Harry did not know what to do about Hermione; while she was slipping further and further into morose depression she had nothing to do with him. Of course at first she made the effort, but after a while she didn't make an effort for anything, not even him. Especially not him. She regularly disappeared for nights on end or was found in the library just staring off into space, but she never talked to him about it. Sometimes, in a selfish way, Harry got annoyed at Hermione. Ron was his best friend too! Ron had been his best friend for longer than Hermione, Ron had been closer to him than Hermione. But in truth most of the time Harry was jealous. Hermione was _allowed_ to grieve for her best friend while Harry had to brave the world and put on the face of being strong, being the pillar of strength for the Wizarding Community that Ron had been to Harry; that Hermione had been to them both. Harry had to pretend he did not care about the death of Ron Weasley; that his murder was _for the greater good_. No one understood that Harry didn't want to treat him as collateral damage; no one understood that Harry wanted the chance to grieve with the rest of Ron's friends and family. But no. The Great Harry Potter was not affected by the deaths of his _minions_; Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, thought that _for the greater good_, it didn't matter if one _insignificant_ little boy died _for the cause_. It made him sick.

Hermione had slipped so far away from him, so far into herself, she didn't even bother with Potions anymore. That earned her a trip to McGonagall, and several detentions, not to mention a severe docking of House Points from Gryffindor. Hermione didn't care. She sat through it all, blankly, only repeating in her head the funeral march she had played every night to herself. If anyone took a glance into her mind, they would think she had gone insane. She hadn't, the brilliance was still there, concealed under a layer of self preservation, but the repetitive drone of the march overshadowed her genius and at the same time gave her a reason to continue living. These errant thoughts graced her mind with their presences they were soon chased out again by the march.

Once again Severus Snape struggled through the halls, when he heard Miss Granger's music. This music, though, was different. This music was music drenched in death, in pain, in sorrow. This was Ronald Weasley's funeral march. Snape only knew because he was in attendance as not only a teacher of Ron's, but as a member of the Order. It was a terrible piece of music, one that ate at the soul, and the emotion with which it was played wrenched Severus Snape's hidden heart into existence. He ignored his pain and went towards the noise – it was not sound, or song, it was noise – and found Miss Granger's usual room, her usual seat next to her usual piano, but the tears rolling down her face were far from normal. The hunched posture as she played was far from her usual proud, smart stance. Her harsh gasps of breath were not the normal Granger way. Something in Severus made him step into the room, ignoring all thoughts of reason and logic, and _Snape_, instead becoming _Severus_, becoming a concerned young man who had stumbled upon a distraught woman. It wasn't hard to do seeing as it was the truth, but still.

"Miss Granger?" His uncertainty at being nice made her name into a question. There was no change in her at all, so Severus moved round her to stand in front of the piano. She stared with blank eyes, playing the incessant music over and over. "Miss Granger. Hermione?" At the sound of her first name dripping silkily off Professor Snape's tongue she looked up at him, eyes still dead but with a certain air of awareness about her. "Please stop playing, Hermione." It felt odd saying her name but it was what kept her focus on him so it was what he would do. "Hermione, I would like you to take your hands off the keys and walk over to me please." She did what was asked and Severus quickly transfigured the ghastly piano into a sofa. He guided her to sit down, appalled when she broke down in his arms.

"It's my fault, we had an argument and he went off and it's my fault. I shouldn't have argued with him and now he's dead. It's all my fault and now I'm killing Harry too and I cant stop." She gasped, sobbing relentlessly. Severus held her tightly, unable to comfort her yet strangely unwilling to let go. These feelings were as sudden as a stunning charm on a man with his back turned, but they were overwhelmingly strong and he had no intention of letting them go.

"Hey, hey, what do you mean you're killing Harry? Are you poisoning him?" She shook her head feebly. "Are you slowly stabbing him to death?" he asked. Again, she shook her head. "So you aren't killing him. And were you the one that threw the curse that killed Mr Weasley?" She mumbled, _no_. "Well you didn't kill him did you? Bellatrix Lestrange killed your friend, no one is killing Harry that we know of. You have every right to mourn your loss but sitting here and destroying yourself is not the way to do it now, is it?"

"No, but I should be helping Harry, not wallowing. I'm pathetic." She whispered, not removing her hands from where they rested grasping fistfuls of his cloak, or his head from his shoulder. This comment infuriated him.

"Why should you not be allowed to mourn? Why should you have to discard Mr Weasley just to be the backing of Potter? Surely after sixteen years he has some sense of maturity and self preservation by now, though we are talking about a Potter here..." Snape trailed off, conscious of the lessening tears and softening breath. He pulled the girl away from him and observed her, watched as she relaxed and fell in a slumber. He decided leaving her on this sofa; it would be the best for her. Besides he needed to get back to his chambers quickly to heal his wounds. He started to extract his teaching cloak from her hands when her eyes shot open. They were wild, and afraid.

"Don't leave me! Please, please don't leave me..." She sobbed, getting just as distraught as she was before he calmed her. She dug her head into his chest, right on a particularly tender bruise. Snape hissed, and she drew back in shock. "Oh! Sorry! What did I do? I'm sorry..." Looking closely at his face, Hermione saw he had, again, various cuts and bruises over his face and certainly ones under his robes.

"It's nothing, really. I was just... I should be going, I was going to leave you to sleep here, because you seem exhausted. I didn't know you were still awake. I really should be going, can you find your way back to your common room? I need to be off." He made to leave again, but she stopped him.

"It is obviously not nothing, Professor. Can I help you? I won't ask questions, just let me heal you?"

"Well well, Miss Granger, I do not believe for a second that you won't ask questions. That would defeat the purpose of an insufferable know-it-all, now wouldn't it?" He remarked dryly. Chuckling, he winced as his ribs moved too much. This caused Hermione to reach out hesitantly in concern. For some reason she was unnecessarily drawn to the Potions Master, felt an undeniable urge to help him. It was strong and just helped further her interest in the solitary man. He had, without meaning to, drawn her a tiny bit out of her depression.

"I can assure you, professor, any questions I may have about the cause of your injuries, and I assure you I have many questions, will be held back. Think of this as a payment for... uh... telling me its not my fault. All that stuff. Ok? I'll just be doing you a favour and clearing up a debt." Reluctantly, he nodded. Hermione drew her wand and began healing the bruises and cuts on his face. Inside she was dying with curiosity but she kept her face calm. Once done, she stopped, biting her lip. "Umm, Professor?" Snape opened his eyes. He had been resting temporarily while Miss Granger had been healing the superficial injuries on his face but she was suddenly unsure.

"Ah. This is fine, thank you Granger. However this does not change the situation in class. We will proceed as always. Good night, Miss Granger." Getting up, Severus Snape walked away.

Hermione did not know what to think. She had just healed the most hated professor in the entire school. She had just cried on his shoulder. He had just consoled her as she cried.

What had happened to the world?


	3. Chapter 3 Additions

A/N: wow I'm on a bit of a role here! I don't want to get your hopes up, pals, this story will be updated less and less frequently once I get back to school, but we've been snowed in for four days so I've gone and thrown this into fifth gear XD hope you review! x

* * *

Hermione changed herself, forced herself to become living again. She made herself become aware of the things around her, of Harry's progress. Harry was sullen. Sure, he put on a brave face for the public but inside, when he thought no one else was looking, Harry Potter was slipping deeper into despair. For once in her life, Hermione had no idea what to do.

Severus Snape had been exactly the same to Hermione, but any remarks he may have made about Ron were no more. Anyone, Slytherin or otherwise, who made a joke about Weasley's death, got an automatic detention. Hermione's respect for the Potions teacher grew and grew, her fascination deepening without thought or encouragement to form what Hermione never thought she would have; A schoolgirl crush.

Harry walked down to Hogsmeade in the invisibility cloak, mulling over Hermione's latest crackpot idea; at the end of this year Voldemort would come for him, not because it was tradition but because it would be an even greater victory for Voldemort if he won the final duel as adults instead of one against a schoolchild. Harry didn't believe in this theory; if Voldemort wanted him dead he should do it fast, while Harry was vulnerable from Ron's abrupt death. The circumstances around the event were sketchy at best, no one really knowing why Ron was out fighting Lestrange when he was supposed to be in Quidditch practice, the one time Harry didn't go due to his Occlumency lesson taking priority, being the time everyone assumed Ron was practising, when in reality he was getting himself cursed. Thinking about Ron made his head pound, his awareness slip, and his concentration falter. It only took this one mistake of letting his ankle show out of the cloak, and the Death Eaters that had been lurking in the shadows were upon him. Then he was gone.

Hermione strolled to the Potions class, blissfully happy with the fact that the Halloween Ball Ginny had organised was coming up soon. For once Hermione was excited about a ball, notwithstanding the Yule Ball of the Triwizard Tournament. She wasn't going with a date, Harry had plucked up the courage to go with Ginny, and they had their outfits sorted, a secret from the other Gryffindorians. There was only three days left until the Ball and it was evident everyone was getting more and more worked up about it. The decorations were in place, the music ready to go, the atmosphere high. Ginny had outdone herself with this one. Hermione assumed Harry was helping with the finishing touches, as he was excused to do for this week. She didn't know any better. She didn't know that she, the brains of the golden trio, was alone.

It was the middle of the lesson, brewing the infamous Living Death, when Professor McGonagall burst into the classroom, extracting Hermione. Snape glanced, concerned, to the girl, but McGonagall took her from his room before he could make eye contact with her. She was taken to Dumbledore's office and sat down with a cup of tea. Ginny was in there too, weeping, and Hermione felt herself go numb. _No, _she thought, _no it couldn't be. _Professor Dumbledore interrupted her thoughts solemnly.

"Miss Granger, Harry has gone missing. We don't know whether it was his own choice or whether it was by force. We were alerted by Miss Weasley here, because Harry didn't turn up to the finishing touches meeting in the Three Broomsticks that they had planned. We have searched the castle and the grounds, we have searched Hogsmeade and I've sent a notice for Sirius and Remus to Floo in any minute now from Grimmauld Place. It is with a heavy heart that I tell you that you may need to prepare yourself for the worst outcome, just in case. We are involving Aurors as soon as Remus and Sirius appear, but of course the Order will have its own investigation running as well. I must ask for you to excuse yourself from classes until we find him, for the plausible excuse that you are on Private Study. You may, as a member of the Order, participate in the investigation if you so wish. Ah! Sirius, Remus, come, sit," The pair got up from the floor where they had rather ungracefully landed from the Floo Network, and sank into the plush chairs near the fire. "You read the owl?"

"How could you lose him, Albus?" Sirius roared. "My godson! I trusted you to look after him because I can't, and you lose him! What would James think of me now?" He got so worked up into a state, but surprisingly Remus' hand on his calmed him down. _Well that's an interesting development,_ thought Hermione, _about time._

"It seems on his way to the Three Broomsticks he disappeared, Sirius. We are already preparing to go out on a search for him, hopefully returning in three days for Miss Weasley's Ball." Albus soothed. "I'm sure he'll be fine."

At this point Snape burst into the room, his robes sweeping dramatically in behind him. It was a mesmerising sight, one that Hermione found it difficult to drag her eyes away from. Unexpectedly the Potions Master came to stand behind Hermione's chair.

"I am here to offer my assistance in the search, Albus. I do think I could be quite useful what with my connections with the Death Eaters, and, well, I would like to help." Everyone bar Dumbledore sat, dumbstruck, at this revelation.

"Most certainly, Severus. I was actually hoping to ask you myself, and thus provide even more solidity to the ruse of Private Study. I can quite easily get Horace in again to cover for you. Minerva, you will be acting Headmistress in my absence?" Dumbledore asked the Transfiguration teacher. She nodded. Hermione barely registered Professor Snape's hand on her shoulders.

"Miss Granger? Come with me, now." He commanded softly, his deep voice weaving its way into her ears, resting deliciously in her mind. He led her down the steps from Dumbledore's office, keeping one hand on her shoulder however instead of taking her to the Potions lab he guided her to the Muggle Studies room that was so familiar to the both of them. "It wasn't your fault, Miss Granger. You cannot, must not, blame yourself for Potter's disappearance. Promise me?" She nodded dumbly, staring into space. "Miss Granger... Hermione?" Suddenly she looked up at him, aware, her emotions roiling undisguised in her eyes. "I'll call you Hermione when we're alone, okay? Just to make you feel slightly better. Now you must promise me you will not blame yourself in any way for Potter's circumstances."

"I promise, Professor," she whispered sadly. Her eyes were fixed on his, the agony and loss and sadness and overwhelming _guilt_ bubbling in the chocolate windows to her soul. "I should have gone with him, though, I should have been helping him, I should have known he shouldn't have gone down to Hogsmeade alone, even under the cloak, I should have protected him." She spoke fast, letting out all of the guilty thoughts plaguing her mind in one rush.

"Well then we would have none of the Golden Trio with us, we would have one hostage and two dead. I'm sorry to put it bluntly, Hermione, but it's true. You, among other things, are a Muggleborn and therefore an example to be made to the Wizarding World. You would have been killed, after being tortured, most likely with Po-Harry watching to break him further, you would have been humiliated publicly and Potter left on his own. With you here, we have the brains of the three, and the only person with enough knowledge of Harry to give us an advantage." Snape's logic calmed her down and lessened her anxiety. "And, Hermione?" She looked at him. "Call me Severus."

"Severus."

That was new. Why on Merlin's Earth did he give her permission to call him Severus? Why did he give her that right, that familiarity? It was a certain draw to her that he couldn't deny, a yearning to make sure she was happy and anything but tore at his soul. The things her soft voice did to his mind, just like the piano, were indescribable. Saying his name felt right, not _Professor_ but _Severus_. Finally, from her eyes spilt the tears of worry she had been holding back in Dumbledore's office.

"Severus, I'm so scared." Those simple words, the innocence in the petite woman before him, had him crushing her to his chest in a manner he had never had the urge to before. He swept her into his lap, soothing her as she clung to him. It was distressing to feel so protective of a girl who, not last year, he had thought of as _insufferable_. He would have to have a serious chat with Albus when this was all over. There was so much he didn't understand. But for this moment, Severus Snape was willing to do nothing but hold the girl in his arms. For once in his life, he was displaying emotion. Emotion towards a person. Slipping out of the role of lonely spy, learning to live.

It would scare him later. It would turn round to bite him on the butt. But for the short time he could, Severus Snape lowered his barriers, became willing to feel, and relaxed, holding a heartbroken girl in his arms.


	4. Chapter 4 Alone

Nothing but blackness surrounded Harry Potter. Blackness and silence. He thought he was dead, thought he was being held in purgatory just for fun. The Hermione part of his mind reminded him he was still alive, he could feel it, but the larger part of him was hoping for it all to be over. There was nothing in this place apart from him. He was alone.

* * *

It had been three days of fruitless searching and Harry had not turned up. They had no trace, Voldemort and the Death Eaters had mentioned nothing in their meeting. The day of the ball was upon them and though both girls were distraught, they had to make sure the ball was proceeding, for the rest of the school. They would only be chaperoning, though, just like the teachers. Remus was helping too just to provide support for the two girls. They got into their dresses, tears running down Ginny's face.

"His tie matched my d-dress," She whimpered. Hermione shot off, leaving Ginny doing her hair in the Head Girl's private bathroom. Shortly she returned with the tie in question, slipping it over Ginny's head. She let out a soppy giggle, looking at Hermione. "Do you think this is a good idea?"

"I'm not too sure but I think if not, we'll live anyway. We are, after all, a Weasley and a Granger. Put the two together, along with a piece of a Potter, and we're invincible!" This made Ginny laugh, thumbing the tie. To make her feel better, Hermione transfigured a handkerchief into a green tie to match her dress. She slipped that over her own head, supporting Ginny in her odd attire. They looped their arms, and set off.

Standing at the bottom of the grand staircase leading to the Great Hall, Professor Snape scowled. He was forced to chaperone the blasted party, then stuck with the gruesome job of making sure the students behaved appropriately before and after the party. Terrible. He glared at each boy loitering at the bottom, waiting to collect their dates; he shot evil eyes at each girl descending the stairs. They were all so incredibly young and socially inept, not that he could lecture about social awkwardness. He was the epitome of social awkwardness.

As he gazed, thoughtlessly, at the stairs, a vision of beauty turned the corner, in _Slytherin colours_. Hermione Granger descended the grand stairs in a strapless, clingy yet elegant, black silk dress, with graceful green ruffles at the bottom and a green ribbon at the top, silver detailing spiralling down the front. She had on a green silk tie, green elbow length gloves and silver heels. Her hair was spun up in a careless yet striking bun with strands of curls falling down her face. Her arm was looped in Miss Weasley's, and they descended chatting to each other instead of looking for a primitive male to collect them. Severus had known Miss Weasley's date had been Potter, Hermione apparently not having one, so they arrived together. He was told by Dumbledore they were overseeing the event and chaperoning, so he had a reason to talk to her. The urge to talk to her was once again overwhelming, and Severus Snape moved out of the shadows and into the light, gazing up at the stunning woman just like the drooling boys he had earlier looked at with contempt. It was pitiful, but once again he found he didn't have it in him to care.

Hermione had kept Ginny talking all the way down the stairs, keeping her attention away from where Harry stood. This also kept her own attention away from that very spot, once empty, now filled with a tall, emotionless Potions Master. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Hermione looked in front of her to make sure they didn't walk into anyone. Instead, she saw said Professor, face blank but black eyes raging with indescribable emotion.

"Oh! Hello, Professor. Sorry we nearly walked into you, we were so engrossed in our own little world!" Ginny smiled, flicking her hair. She was always oddly at ease around all of the Professors at school, even the one who made it his purpose to be hated. Her smile only grew as she witnessed his complete transfixion on Hermione, his ignorance of everyone around him save her. She saw Neville and Luna, together in their Pumpkin costumes, and went over to them with a quick excuse to Hermione. "Sorry, 'Mione, but I must Meet and Greet with people... oh the chores of being a hostess!" she winked, and seeing that Hermione was blushing with the Professor's attention, she walked away.

"Miss Granger, how... reckless of you to wear Slytherin colours to a Halloween Ball. Anyone would think you hold all Slytherins in complete distaste." His drawl sent shivers down her spine and caused gooseflesh to appear over her skin. She laughed breathlessly.

"Not all Slytherins, Professor, only some of the more... prejudiced of the lot. And am I not allowed to dress up as something ghastly on the Day of the Dead? I feel a Slytherin is perfect for the role," her gaze on his face was so sharp she saw the flicker of hurt fleetingly touch his face before passing as quickly as it had come. "Not to mean any offence, Professor. You are one of the respected Slytherins in my eyes, even if you do go out of your way to make people dislike you." He voice adopted a teasing tone. "I suppose I shall resign myself to your presence as this job was also dumped upon me. We can be the two Slytherin Snakes together," she laughed. The way her eyes sparkled as she joked caused Severus to feel a thrill run through him, marred by the thought of what she was; _she is a student,_ he reminded himself, _you must not get this involved._ Nevertheless he let his trademark smirk soften to half a semblance of an actual smile.

"Well, Granger, you may just have to put up with me all evening, and I you for those meddling two," he pointed to a laughing Ginny and a smirking McGonagall, "Put us on the same posts all evening. I do believe we have the tedious job of serving _punch _next I mean really, punch of all things. Disgraceful." Though his remarks were sarcastic they held traces of humour that softened the words. In an uncharacteristic gesture the Potions Master offered his arm to his companion. "We _Slytherin Snakes_ may as well act the part and assemble a united front against the evils of the teenage student." She took his arm and he led her back to his corner, but smirked, one she had picked up off the man himself. He was in Muggle clothes, in trademark black but a fitted suit and shirt. Hermione found it more appealing when _he_ was wearing the tie she had transfigured.

"There, we match. You say united front yet it will contain an ex-student and a current student, how... problematic." Their easy banter and witty comments wiled the time away, only once or twice having to break off to address an inappropriate display of affection from the students, but all in all having a fabulous time. They moved from station to station happily, ignorant of the stares from students, until Dumbledore decided to meddle... again.

"Miss Granger, Severus, I would like you to lead this next dance, please," though he said it in a pleasant tone everyone know when Dumbledore requested something there was only one answer; yes. "It is the Waltz and don't try to get out of it, dear children, I know full well you were both enrolled in lessons as children. Fortunate, isn't it?" He smiled, then the music changed. Severus looked at Hermione, and she nodded grimly. If a show was what the old codger wanted, a show was what he would get.

They glided onto the dance floor, settling into the hold position. Their minds melded using Legilimency to form one. The dance was an exquisite blend of Waltz, Argentine Tango, and Rumba, creating the most passionate dance Hogwarts had ever seen. None of the other students joined in, all too engrossed in watching the pair whirl flawlessly around the floor, almost looking sincere in their passion. Most of the students consoled themselves with the fact that Hermione Granger would never go out with the Dungeon Bat, never have feelings for the greasy Potions teacher. Only a select few could see the truth, could see their passion. Dumbledore sighed; his test had proved positive; Severus had fallen for her. This meant a long talk in his office, with or without tea.

Severus Snape and Hermione Granger danced as though the world had stopped, as though there was no one around but them. They sensed nothing, heard nothing, saw nothing but each other. Every wall they had ever constructed had fallen away in the dance, any barriers disappeared. They could not dance so gracefully without complete devotion to one another. Their minds, however, although melded as one, remained separate in every aspect bar dancing. It was like the Potions Master was working to give her privacy, was giving her respect. It was shocking.

All too soon the song came to an end and they were forced apart by social standards. Severus' face was remarkably open, his shock and confusion clearly etched on his face. Hermione reached out to touch his arm but before she could make contact he swept from the room. Her face crumpled slightly, turning to face the wall as she composed herself. A gentle hand on her arm made her turn around; it was Ginny.

"Wow, 'Mione! I didn't know you could dance like that! You and him certainly make quite a pair, eh?" She noted how Hermione's face fell at this, so changed the subject. "I think McGonagall has had a bit too much to drink; she's speaking Gaelic and dancing like a real Scotsman. It's kind of worrying. Dumbledore went out shortly before... you know, so do you think you could help me get the old bag back to her chambers? It would be a massive favour, 'Mione. Please?" Hermione nodded, and they weaved their way back to the frazzled Transfiguration teacher, assisting her out of the hall. Hermione couldn't be any more glad for the escape route.

* * *

Severus stared at the woman in front of him as they finished dancing. Her entire face glowed, her eyes lit up, her hair falling haphazardly over her face. She was glorious, revelling in the tremendous show they had put on for the school. Severus knew his mask had slipped, that any emotion on his face could be read especially by the intelligent creature in his arms. _In his arms._ He dropped them and stepped away. He was completely shocked at the amount of caring they had shown to each other and struggled to put the walls back up. He failed. Hermione went to reach out to him and his nerves failed him; he bolted. Swept out of the room just as dramatically as he swept into his lab. He used his intimidating glares and fierce reputation to escape from the room as fast as he could. He didn't realise that a certain wizened old man was waiting outside the hall for him.

"Severus," Dumbledore stepped from the shadows and stopped the teacher in his tracks. "Come with me." He turned and strode in the direction of his office. Once they reached the steps, he spoke. "Blackjack." The stairs appeared. "Severus, we need to have a long talk. This is unlike you, unlike Miss Granger. What we need is tea, lemon drops and comfy chairs." Snape stayed silent, choosing to be on the defensive for this round. They settled in Dumbledore's office and just sat quietly. Albus seemed to be content just waiting for Snape to start talking. Soon, he did.

"I don't know why I've been growing so close to Granger, I really don't. It started when... when Weasley died. I felt a compulsion since then to be close to her, to make her happy. She's been making me feel again and she doesn't even know it. It's completely baffling but definitely not unwelcome. I heard her play the piano twice and it was remarkably comforting and helped me cope with the trauma after... the meetings. Once she healed me, we talked. I think I saved her from depression by talking to her about Weasley. I think I helped. But now, now I rely on her, now I enjoy being around her. I find her beautiful and mesmerising but I know I cant do anything about it because she's a student and I'm a teacher but the pull is there and getting stronger every day. We can talk about anything or we can just sit in companionable silence and I feel right. I'm starting to become whole again, Albus, all thanks to Hermione."

Interesting.

"Severus, this sounds out of your control. It most certainly doesn't sound like you however I have complete confidence that it is not the work of Miss Granger or her friends. It sounds like an ancient piece of magic that I have heard of, but I need to research it further. I have tomes here that I am soon going to crack open but as of tomorrow you are to resume the search for Mr Potter. Your advanced knowledge of espionage and Miss Granger's familiarity with Harry's mindset make you a formidable team and you seem to be at ease working with her thus I am putting her in your care while you search for him. Lack of Order members means you will work alone with her plus too many cooks spoil the broth, wouldn't you say? You won't see me tomorrow before you leave so I wish you the best of luck. Bring Harry Potter back safely, Severus, if not for us then for Hermione. She shouldn't have to suffer the death of her last best friend so soon." The cue to leave was subtle, and Severus left, mind whirling.

* * *

Once the girls had safely left the old, drunken professor in her room, they made their way wearily to the dorm room.

"Hermione?" Ginny asked slightly. "Do you think... do you think Harry will ever be safe? Do you think he'll ever come back? I'm so worried about him, he could be being tortured and I'm partying for Merlin's sake! I don't know what to do..." The insecure sixth year trembled. There were times when Hermione forgot Ginny's age, but at others, like this very moment, she was acutely aware that Ginny was in fact younger than them, slightly more innocent, slightly more frightened. It was all she could do to hug her and pray, just pray, Harry was safe.

* * *

His scar was burning. He could sense the presence of the Dark Lord, just inches away from him, making him squirm. The stench of rotting corpses hung in the air, invading his nose and embedding its imprint in his memory. He knew he would never, ever forget the smell of the dead men he could not see. He could be surrounded by them and not know. He daren't move in fear that he would disturb one. Exhaustion was fast overcoming him. Resistance was futile against the non-verbal spell, and he succumbed to the dreamland existence he once had with Ron, Hermione and Ginny.

That was all it was to him now; a dream.


	5. Chapter 5 Preparations

A/N: Sorry! I know it's been a while but there were so many places I could go with this and in the end I had about 7 starts to it. Choosing the one best suited to my ideal direction was painful. Anyway, I won't stop you from reading any longer,

So long!

Amelie x

* * *

"Miss Granger, it's time to get up and ready to go," A voice sounded in her ear. It was high pitched and trembling, so Hermione lifted her head groggily. Stood before her, shaking, was a tiny house elf. She assumed it was one of the new ones; she had never seen her before.

"Thank you for waking me up..."

"Nifty, miss, my name is Nifty. Nifty was told by the great Headmaster that you should be up before Professor Snape arrives to collect you and he said for Nifty to get you up at six 'o' clock sharp, so Nifty did exactly what Headmaster Dumbledore asked, including delivering this note to you." The tiny elf handed Hermione the note, bowed then Disapparated.

"Professor Snape?" she mumbled, heaving herself out of bed. She glanced over the simple note of _You will be assisting Severus in his search for Harry, leaving this morning, pack lightly and dress sensibly, Good Luck, Professor Dumbledore._ She wearily took a shower and got dressed, packing her beaded bag with clothes, books and other items she felt she would need on the potentially hazardous journey. She had just pulled her Muggle hoodie over her t shirt and her hiking boots onto her feet when there was a pounding on the door to her chambers. She slipped a plain black robe over the top of her clothes, stabbed her wand into her hair to hold it out of her face, and opened the door. "Professor, good morning. I see we are ready to go?" She smiled cheerily, determined to put the dance out of her mind. Snape snarled, brushing past her into her chambers.

"I need coffee, now." He growled, slumping down on Hermione's sofa, sending Crookshanks fleeing, hissing at the half dead Professor. It took her a second but she soon snapped out of the shock-induced stupor, summoning Nifty.

"Nifty, please may you get Professor Snape a cup of strong coffee, and seven giant pots of instant coffee. Also three packets of crumpets, three of waffles and four boxes of whatever cereal Professor Snape eats. Thank you." Nifty disappeared without a word, happy to oblige the most polite Miss Granger.

"Why?" Snape growled, not knowing why the insolent young woman would bother with the little creature comforts when she would have to suffer the company of the most hated man in the Wizarding world.

"It will not do for us to be grumpy when we're working; every ounce of brain power will have to be dedicated to finding Harry. Now drink your coffee and get some rest, I'll put your bags in mine." She handed the coffee from Nifty to the tired man, thanking her again and taking the food.

"You'll never fit my bags in yours, even with the shrinking charm. There's no point in trying." However he drew the miniature bags from his pocket before slumping back against the sofa.

"I have a bottomless charm on my bag, don't you worry Professor. I'll most definitely be able to. Just rest, Professor." She disappeared from his line of sight and he closed his eyes. _What are you doing, Severus? _He asked himself, _Why are you being civil? If you become civil you become friends, your walls are lowered and you get hurt. Think Lily, Severus._ He snarled at himself and his stupidity. He would not let some silly schoolgirl tear down all he had out up. Before he knew it the insufferable little girl was back, bag over her shoulder, holding her cloak unsurely.

"Girl, if you had any common sense you would register the fact that we are going to a Muggle town in that tiny head of yours and take off your robes. If you continue this way we will not last five seconds. I demand you get your act into gear for I have no desire to be killed on this mission." Hermione turned round to get rid of the tears that had unexpectedly welled up in her eyes and started sliding down her cheeks. Severus saw them glint in the light before she turned and felt immensely guilty but knew it was best if he distanced himself. He didn't want some magic dictating who he would spend his life with; if he couldn't share it with Lily he would share it with no one. He swept from the room and Hermione followed silently. This was going to be a long trip.

Spinners End was a dismal house in the middle of an industrial town. The whole street had smog lingering in the air, threatening to descend to human height and suffocate whomsoever had the misfortune to be out walking. Just around the corner in a small side alley two figures popped into existence. One was a tall, stern, austere man with what looked like lank black hair, a hooked nose and piercing obsidian eyes. The other was a young woman with pixie like proportions and features, curly honey coloured hair and warm chocolate brown eyes. They moved hurriedly down the street to the godforsaken house, making no sound and looking resolutely in front of them. They went through the door of the house and as suddenly as there was movement in the street, there was, once again, none.

"Miss Granger?" Severus called. He felt uneasy leaving her in the hall as he made his way to his bedroom but he would not have her in his personal space. He sighed; the stupid magic thing going on between them urged him to get her close to him in a place of such evil and make sure no harm could come to her. She rushed to his side at once, fearful of the dark house they were in. She knew as soon as she saw it that this house was the home that he grew up in. She could see by the tensing of his jaw and the clenching of his fists that he hated this place but if he did why were they there? "We are staying here for two days to attend a party tonight and another tomorrow at two of the top Death Eater's houses. You, of course, will be in disguise, as my fiancée, Clara. Once we are dressed I'll show you the memories in which I created your character. Act pureblood, act posh; please do not reveal any facet of your real identity. They will kill you without a doubt if they find out your true identity, and I will be killed as well. You will be staying in the room next to mine; don't touch anything except the bed. Be done in ten minutes and I will sort out that nest you call hair." He swept into his room without pause, leaving the young woman to hesitantly enter the room to the right of his. It was beautiful.

Some female had done the room in the old French country style with distressed white wood and pastel colours. It was definitely not done by her professor. There was a feminine touch to the room that put her at ease.

Once she was done inspecting the room she turned back to the bed. On it was a risqué black dress that only just skimmed her mid thighs, clinging shamelessly to her curves. It was strapless and dipped on her back, her petite frame only just supporting it. Hermione felt insecure in the slip of material so she put a temporary sticking charm around the top just in case it slipped from its precarious position on her bosom. She let her hair tumble down and settle on her shoulders but knew that the professor was going to do something to it. She transfigured her hiking boots into strappy red heels and one of her books into a red clutch bag, and stepped out of the room.

Severus was waiting for the young witch in the hallway, already in his Muggle black tuxedo. When she shyly emerged from her room he stifled a gasp. She was exquisite.

"Miss Granger," he said stiffly. If she was going to be looking like this for the whole night he didn't know what he might do, teacher or not. Then he remembered he would be altering her appearance to become a pureblood. Joy. "If you follow me I have a few potions in my rooms that will help the modification of your features. You can be watching the memories while it happens but for that to happen you must trust me. Do you?" A small, irritating part of the old Potions Master was desperately nervous for the answer to be in his favour.

Hermione searched within herself and found that she trusted him with her life. "I trust you Professor Snape. Shall we?" He nodded, almost dumbfounded, but remained emotionless on the outside. He guided her through his rooms to where he had set up a floor length mirror with a plush chair behind it.

"Some people cannot cope with the magical strain of changing their appearance to the extent we are and faint. I am fairly certain you are strong enough to cope with it but it would not do at all for you to have concussion. We are going so far as to alter your magical signature slightly for four hours which is extremely taxing as well as other things. When you are ready you may swallow these three potions and I will connect my mind with yours so you have access to the memories." She did as he asked, and they were linked.

Severus felt amazingly content with her in his mind. True, she couldn't access anything but the select memories he had fabricated, but there was a link that made him feel relaxed and... for once at peace. He knew that the tiny woman in front of him would be unresponsive to whatever he did now, externally, so he smoothed her hair back gently from her face and began transforming it. Using the mental image he had concocted, he visualised Hermione's face reassembling itself into the one he had created. It was most certainly a shame for the beautiful features to disappear, even though the ones that replaced them were not ugly in the least. They just manifested themselves as a woman that was far from his ideal woman. The character was the socially accepted as the perfect pureblood female, completely eligible for who this crowd thought was one of their leaders. There, he was done.

He opened his eyes to see his creation in the flesh and was astounded. She was exactly right. Hermione, no, Clara, opened her eyes to reveal sharp grey eyes, her pointed face framed by raven black, poker straight silk hair that cascaded down her spine and ended at her waist. Her breasts had swelled slightly and her expression was hard.

"Professor, is it okay? Did everything go as expected?" Though the voice was flinty and cold, the uncertainty and _emotion_ in the voice would always belong to Hermione. She was still in there, under the facade.

"Miss Granger, now is not the time to be calling me Professor. As you will be masquerading as my fiancée you may call me Severus. I must also ask you to show some form of affection. I know it will be hard because it's me, but there must be a good pretence in place or they will know instantly that we are not really lovers and will kill us for our lies. Remember to respond to Clare De Paor, Lady De Paor, or any other name like that. You may be propositioned by some of the scum that will be there; hopefully I won't be separated from you too much so that will not be any of your concern however at a certain time in the evening I will be required to have a talk with the other Death Eaters and you will, unfortunately, be left alone with whoever is left. The majority will be female but in the instance that you are approached by another male you must act like the pureblood nobility you are. You know the Irish lilt in your voice?" Hermione nodded, surprised he had noticed that. "Please try to amplify it as that is where you are from. The person you have become I designed to have an Irish accent so it shouldn't be too difficult. Apart from that, I think we're set to go." He grabbed two sets of dress robes from the chair, passing the smaller silken ones to her.

"Severus?" He looked at her in question. Hermione bit her lip but proceeded with her thought in the brash Gryffindor fashion. "I'm glad it's you that I'm doing this with. Looking for Harry, I mean. I don't think I'd feel safe with anyone else. I don't feel as scared now." The confession warmed the older man's heart.

"You are safer with me than with anyone on this earth, Hermione, apart from maybe Dumbledore. You have no reason to feel scared now." He quirked his lips in semblance of a smile and she returned it.

She slipped on her robes and watched as he wrapped his around his lithe form. Then they awkwardly stood in each other's embrace, and they Apparated, full of apprehension, to the night ahead.

It was most certainly going to be a long one.

* * *

Next up; Party numero uno! haha hope you like this chapter it was going to be longer but I thought it was a good stopping point. C6 already in the works so hopefully it won't be so long this time :P

Please review,

Amelie x


	6. Chapter 6 Pretending

AN: Well, here I am again, with A Twisted World... I feel quite an attachment to this story and I really hope I can finish it. Of course, reviews always help...

No Harry in this one, but his appearances will be few and far between. It is, after all, an SSHG fic.

ciao!

* * *

The house of Apollyon LeNoir was formidable to say the least. The menacing perch on top of a desolate mountainside, sparse foliage smattering the terrain, the enormous grey clouds looming above, everything added up to just hint at the characters of the people inside the gothic mansion. Hermione shivered and shuffled closer to... Severus. Well, at least this was a start; she was already subconsciously relying on him. He hesitantly put his long hand gently on the small of her back and they started their walk to the gloomy abode. Severus made sure to guide her and reassure her with his mere presence. They reached the door and took a deep breath.

"We are ready, Severus. Offer me your arm, be the gentleman," Hermione whispered.

"My lady?" Severus offered 'Clara' his arm and together they entered the snake's pit.  
"Severus!" A group of sinister men called out in the foyer, waving for the couple to join them. Hermione hesitated but Severus tugged her hand sharply to remind her to remain in character. She rolled her shoulders back, raised her head and walked tall, secretly clinging to Severus' arm. They reached the death eaters. "Severus, friend, it's been a long time. Obviously you've been busy; who is this fine young woman?" She shivered mentally at the primal stares aimed at her.  
"Gentlemen this is my girlfriend, Lady Clara De Paor. We have been courting for three months now." Hang on, Hermione thought, wasn't I to be his fiancée? She stored the question away, becoming Clara once more. "Clara, his is our host, Apollyon LeNoir, and our friends Wolfgang Harn, Samael Maurus and Albert Runcorn. Clara is from Ireland, gentlemen."  
"Pleasure to meet you," Clara stated. Hermione may have been socially awkward and shy but Clara was a pureblood, proud and haughty. She thought everyone was below her and her view of Muggleborns was to be rivaled only by the inner circle of death eaters. She was, in short, perfect for Severus' facade. Hermione didnt even have to act, she merely projected back seven years of prejudice and hatred thrown at her. Clara was everything she despised and looked like everything Severus wanted.  
"I assure you my lady that the pleasure is all ours. Now Severus, are you going to lead the next dance? It is custom, after all, for you to showcase your exceptional talents. I assume that your partner would not object to waltzing with you? she has, of course being the properly raised pureblood she is, had the years of dancing lessons imparted on her during her childhood as we all did, has she not?" Asked Apollyon. Ah. Hermione knew there was a reason why there were a few hundred memories of dancing lessons.  
"If she would have me, I would spend my life dancing with her. She is my reason for being, Apollyon, I hope you know that." Severus sounded so sincere, so genuine, Hermione felt her heart clench with the knowledge that it was not true. Still, the opportunity for romance presented itself and she, ever the faithful actress, took the chance.  
"Severus my love I would spend every day with you if you but ask. I love you," she gently cupped his cheek and guided his head to hers, pressing their lips together tenderly. It set her heart racing.  
"Then my dear we shall dance. Fellows, we bid you farewell for now, I have a lovely woman to entertain and a dance to lead." the death eaters gathered around them nodded and Severus led Clara into the ballroom. It was astounding, intricately decorated and filled with twirling couples all dressed in black. The music that played was perfect for the waltz yet held a sinister edge. The black drapes and obsidian accessories just revealed even further that despite calling this gathering a ball or party, it was dangerously close to being a revel. The whole effect was an uneasy sense of barely disguised macabre. Hermione shuddered with the thought but Clara, ever the character, just glided gracefully to the centre of the room, following the man she was supposed to love.  
They struck the pose, feeling the sense of déjà vu yet not feeling anywhere near as comfortable as they had. Hermione took this chance to ask her question.  
"Severus?" the professor looked down at the young witch in his arms. "Why did you tell them I was your girlfriend and not fiancée?" Severus sighed.  
"Ever the know-it-all, eh? I rather stupidly forgot to give you a ring before we left so my plan had to be altered. Now at the moment they don't trust you fully but after this evening they will. I have something special up my sleeve. Just act surprised okay?" Hermione nodded. Suddenly, Severus stopped dancing and glanced around the room. "May I have everyone's attention please?" Hermione groaned internally but Clara smiled beautifully at her 'love'. "If you haven't met my partner then this is Clara de Paor of Ireland. She and I have been courting for three months and I would like all of you friends to bear witness to whatever follows." he turned to look at Clara and grasped her hands. When he bended at the knee her eyes widened and she tightened her grip on his hands. "Clara De Paor, ever since the day we met in Hogsmeade I thought you were perfect. I may have been distant but I knew from the moment I saw you I never wanted to spend a day of my life with anyone else. You broke down my defenses and wormed your way into my pitiful heart. You showed me it was okay to love and you helped me realize how important it is to me that I keep you with me for all eternity and protect you from harm; if anything should happen to you I know I would cease to exist. I am asking you, my love, my life, Clara, to please do me the highest honour of consenting to be my wife." The hall was silent and Hermione didnt have to act to let the tears run down her face; that speech was the single most beautiful thing she had ever heard and it was directed at her. The only thing marring the occasion was the realization that Severus could never love who she really was. His perfect woman was the costume she was wearing.  
"Yes, Severus, a thousand times yes!" Clara threw herself into his arms, Hermione secretly reveling in the closeness even if it was only for show. After all it was the only closeness she would get from him.  
Severus did not have to force the grin dominating his face as he held Hermione close, for once glad that blasted magic was in place. He just tapped into the connection he had with her and spoke from the heart, of course editing it for Clara. He just wished her acting had been real emotions. Then he mentally berated himself; of course she could never love him. He was a snarky, low, evil bastard Potions teacher that had made her life hell for going on seven years. Drawing himself back to the present he fished a tiny ring from his pocket. It was a huge diamond set on a delicate silver band. It suited Clara but Severus knew it was much too flashy for Hermione. Not that she would ever accept an engagement ring from him.  
"Well then, my love, I suppose you had better put this on," He slipped the ring onto her finger and kissed it. "I love you, Clara" he whispered. She blushed prettily and pressed her lips to hers.  
"I love you too Severus."  
Soon they were surrounded by people congratulating them and they smiled, ever the happy couple. They could not wait to get away from the horrendous death eaters and manipulated that feeling into the pretense of wishing to 'celebrate' their engagement. They were just making their excuse when they were stopped.

"Severus, you devil! I cannot believe you asked her to marry you before introducing her to me!" a clear, cold voice called from across the room. It held a slightly taunting edge obviously meant to be joking but Hermione tensed; this woman was evil. Clara simply laughed lightly and tapped Severus on the chest.

"Sev, you never told me I had competition. Sorry for his rudeness…?" She left the sentence hanging as to ask for the woman's name. The woman weaved her way over to the centre of the room, the spitting image of a demonic succubus with flowing platinum hair and aristocratic features. She was aloof and looked, quite simply, like a first class bitch.

"Iyzebel LeNoir, Apollyon's wife and hostess of this evening. I have heard quite the compliments from my husband about you, Miss De Paor, quite the compliments. The men all seem to think you are a very intriguing woman."

"_Lady_ Clara De Paor, soon to be Lady Clara Snape and very happy to be. I am pleasantly surprised to hear that your husband and companions thought so highly of me and I extend the same compliments to them." Clara softly emphasized the importance of her title in her Irish lilt, moving closer to her fiancée. If it was possible Iyzebel felt more evil than the rest of the room put together and it shook her to the core. Hermione, needing comfort and reassurance, gently brushed her mind against Severus' who in turn held her tighter.

"Of course. The pleasure is all mine, really, but we must get back to this ball. Severus, you are required in the study with the other men. Clara can accompany me and we can talk about our men with the other women." With that Clara was unceremoniously tugged from Severus and Iyzebel started to lead her across the floor however Hermione needed contact from him once more before she went off with this terrifying woman. She pulled from her grasp and ran back at Severus, planting her lips on his. With this contact their minds merged and Hermione whimpered. Severus whispered in his mind to her, calming her. _Miss Granger… Hermione, you are doing a brilliant job. Do not worry about Iyzebel; she is too concerned with appearances to do anything to you or let anything happen to you while you are here and under her watch. I would keep an eye on Nyoka more than anything, Nyoke Maurus. She's the hostess for the other ball we must attend, along with her husband Samael. Go now, I'll make it quick and keep you linked with my mind._ He pulled back from her physically, still present in her mind but as unobtrusive as ever, and gently set her on her feet.

"I'll be back before you know it, my love," he said softly as the impatient hostess pulled her away from him. _You have no reason to be scared, Hermione, I'll protect you,_ came the whisper in her mind, _go with her now and act the pureblood you've been impersonating all evening; no one will know you're not if you give them no hint. Go… _She turned reluctantly to the direction that Iyzebel was headed and straightened her shoulders, determined to brave whatever those cows would throw at her.

She was a Gryffindor, after all.

* * *

"Clara, this is Nyoke Maurus, my very best friend. Nyoke, this is Severus' _fiancée_," Iyzebel sung as she introduced the two women. Unlike the porcelain witch Nyoke Maurus was a tall, tanned, raven haired woman. She was broader than both other witches and even more intimidating.

"The pleasure is all mine," the tall woman's voice was as rough as sandpaper and contained no emotion. Hermione knew she was dangerous and any sign of weakness would be grabbed and exploited. She had to pull out all the Pureblood acting for this. Sniffing, she replied.

"I'm sure. Mrs DeNoir, please start learning to use my title. I am not a Lady for no reason and you would be wise to address me correctly. Severus would be _most_ displeased. As would Apollyon, I imagine, if he found out you were not treating your esteemed guests with the respect they deserve. Mrs Maurus, it is most enlightening to be acquainted with you." The women looked rather shocked at the backbone the newcomer showed. "I really hope the men do not take too long; I would like to celebrate my engagement with my family. Sometimes it really is such a chore being away from the Manor."

"If it is so painful, why on earth are you marrying Severus? He would never give up residence in Hogwarts, let alone move out to the middle of nowhere with _you._" The scathing comment was rashly disguised with a smile but Clara was having none of it.

"Well, Mrs DeNoir, I think you will find that Severus and I are, as we said earlier, in love. And when in love one tends to let their heart rule the more trivial matters, like the location of their homes. I assume you both did not live with your husband's prior to marriage?" She had them there. "Well, then, two prime examples. Now really, when will they be done? I am not used to waiting for Severus amidst strangers." 1-0 to Hermione Granger, Mudblood. She silently cheered. _Be careful not to anger them too far, Hermione. These two women are formidable on their own, together are hard to catch and with their husbands' money, impossible to stop. If you think this ball is like a revel I really do not know how you will cope with tomorrow night. Samael is much more open with his Death Eater status. _The contact with Severus was brief but allowed her to glimpse his surroundings; he was at a Meeting. She really had better tone it down.

"Well, _Lady_ Clara, we hope we can ease the discomfort slightly," said Iyzebel through gritted teeth. "There are rather important matters the men need to discuss without us women in the way."

"Do not worry yourself, Iyzebel, I completely understand. It seems the engagement has loosened my tongue slightly and I say things I do not necessarily think are true. And please, I only berate you about my title when leaving it out of an introduction; I would like to think we can become firm friends. After all, you are all close to my dear Severus. I would hate any hostility or awkwardness to mar your relationship." With these stern but friendly words, the women got chatting.

They talked about meaningless subjects, never straying from the socially correct. It whittled the time away until finally, Hermione felt strong arms envelope her once more.

"Are you ready to leave, my love?" Severus murmured into her ear. "I had hoped we could visit your family in the Manor before retiring tonight. It would be most prudent of us to announce our engagement ourselves, before the gossip hits them." Hermione nodded, exhaustion setting in. Keeping up a façade was difficult; keeping up a façade and defenses was mind-numbing.

"It was so nice meeting you both. I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow, at your ball, Nyoke. Goodnight." They swept from the room, arm in arm, only stopping to say their goodbyes to people. They exited the mansion and disapparated in each other's arms.

Two arrogant women stood in the corner, seething about the newcomers comments.

"Nyoke, we must avenge our families. The slander that slips from her tongue is disgusting."

"I agree, Iyzebel. There is something not right about that De Paor woman. Something not right at all."


	7. Chapter 7 Nightmares

"For reasons I cannot begin to fathom, your acting tonight was astounding. Congratulations for not ruining the mission and getting us killed." Snape murmured, helping an exhausted Hermione up to her room. The spell altering her appearance was beginning to wear off; leaving her the curvaceous brunette she was before the ordeal. She leant against the Potions Master and closed her eyes.

"Muggle acting classes," she replied sleepily, in way of explanation. Severus chuckled and her bushy locks tickled his nose.

"One of your many hidden skills, then?" the query subtly referred to her music, something he'd found himself missing. She nodded into his shoulder and yawned. "Okay, Miss Granger; time for bed. I suppose at some point tomorrow I can introduce you to the Library, after all there is a grand piano inside." He assisted her onto her bed and gently laid the girl down, covering her soft body with a blanket. He turned to leave but she caught his hand.

"I told you to call me Hermione," she muttered, opening bleary eyes to find her professor staring oddly at her. She hadn't let go of his hand, and found that her own hand fit better in his than the character she had played all evening.

"For now, Miss Granger, I hardly think we know each other well enough for first name terms unless it's part of the façade. You would do well to remind yourself of your status as a student, even if you are on this mission. Just because I have been forced to bring you along with me does not mean you have earned the right to call me by my given name. Good night, Miss Granger," he swept from the room, extinguishing the lights as he went. He didn't turn back, didn't see the tear slip from Hermione's eye, didn't see her heartbroken expression as she realised any niceties shown to her were lies, didn't see her curled up, alone, in the middle of the bed, suddenly not very tired.

"Damn and blast!" Severus growled as soon as he had closed his door. Why did she have to be so innocently alluring? He stormed to his bed and threw himself on it, child like, covering his eyes with his arm. He couldn't have been gladder to see Hermione revert back to her usual self after the terrible evening they were forced to endure; the sleek, raven-haired pureblood he had disguised her as looked all too real, too ideal. He had worried she would prefer the acceptance she received and would stay so… perfect in the eyes of the Old Blood Wizarding World. Then he mentally scolded himself; she was a woman proud of her inheritance, why would she choose to become someone else?

With another sigh the Potions master heaved himself off the bed and got changed, slipping on ebon pyjama pants and a green t-shirt, crawling back into the lush cocoon of his duvet. Not for the first time, he wished there was a warm body next to him, accompanying him. The bed was just too large for one man. Severus pulled up the covers to his chin, and fell into a fitful, nightmare-plagued sleep.

Hermione had just drifted off to sleep, when hoarse cries and yells shocked her awake. It was Professor Snape. She shot out of bed and grabbed her wand, dashing through the door and into his. What she saw made her gasp.

Severus was thrashing on the bed, yelling. Now she was in the room she could hear what was tormenting him. It was heartbreaking to hear.

"No!" He cried, tangling his legs in the sheets. "No, please! Not my mother! No! I swear to you… No! Please… I'll join… not my mother…" tears overflowed her cheeks and Hermione gently approached the bed, intent on waking the Professor. She sat next to him and placed her hand on his arm, shaking gently.

"Professor? Professor, please wake up," she whispered. The man jerked in his sleep, but didn't wake. "Professor… Severus!" He sprang up, sliding his wand from under his pillow and pressing it to Hermione's neck. She screamed, petrified.

"Her- Miss Granger!" Severus bellowed, lowering his wand and scooting to the edge of the bed. "What the hell are you doing in here?" She was too terrified to speak. Severus shook himself and pulled the trembling girl into his arms and soothed her, whispering apologies in her ear. "I'm sorry for scaring you. I've never been woken from sleep by anyone good and my instincts, in my line of work, make me slightly jumpy. What was it you wanted?" Hermione pulled herself out of his arms and walked to the door. It was hard to be around a man who had just been about to kill her without knowing it.

"I wanted to stop the nightmares," she admitted. "It sounded painful and no one should endure such horrific memories as yours obviously were. I'm sorry for bothering you with foolish Gryffindor sentimentalities, Professor." She left the room, still slightly upset. Severus rushed after her and caught her as she slipped through her door.

"Hermione," he breathed. "Thank you. The nightmares are something I've had to live with since… well if you heard the content of them then you could guess for how long. I just deal with them. For you to care enough to rouse me… you have my deepest gratitude and apologies for scaring you. I have to admit though, I am now faced with a dilemma; fall back to the hellish dreams, or become tired because of the lack of sleep I'll gain from trying to avoid them?" For once the Potions Master let down his carefully constructed guard and bared his soul to the woman before him. She wrapped her arms around his waist in an impulsive display of affection, one that stunned the Professor but one that he returned.

"I'll stay with you, Professor, just to make sure your dreams are clear tonight. We can stay on opposite sides of the bed, and I swear to you I don't fidget at all and you can count on me to not mutter, I don't snore…"

"Okay, Hermione," Severus interrupted, smiling weakly. "I believe you. If you think it will help any, I will try. Hold to your promises though, Miss Granger, or we will have a problem on our hands." There was a wry grin on Hermione's face as she skipped into the Professor's room.

"Of course, sir. And besides; it will be most beneficial to our pretence of love, if we actually sleep together... I mean sleep in the same bed," she blushed furiously, earning a scoff from Severus.

"Quiet, Miss Granger, or I will be forced to place a silencing charm on you," Sev warned jokingly. They clambered into bed, exhausted.

"Professor?" Hermione asked quietly. He groaned, rolling to face her with sparkling onyx eyes. "Please, now that we are this intimate, please call me Hermione. Good night." She buried her head under the duvet and turned away from her Potions teacher, and fell rapidly to sleep. Severus resisted the urge to reach out to brush her hair from her face and quickly did the same.

When Severus woke, he was unnaturally warm, but not uncomfortable. It took a while for the spy to realise that he had woken naturally, not with a start because of a nightmare. It took another few seconds for the reason of the above to become startling clear to him. Hermione was wrapped peacefully in his arms. He had her _in his arms_. He had… as he shook his head the brunette stirred, yawning cutely. _Cutely?_ He thought to himself. _You really have let yourself slip, Severus._

"Seve- Professor?" Hermione mumbled, lifting herself up to glance at him. When she realised her position she gasped and flew to the edge of the bed. _See, you old fool? Repulsed by the thought of it,_ Severus scowled mentally, bitter that his emotions had gotten out of control and had created a whole plethora of situations and ideals that were really just not true. "I am so sorry! I swear to you that it was purely unconscious and I had no intention of getting close to you… sorry, I'll just go now…" before he could formulate a reply, Hermione had dashed from the room.

"Idiot. Dunderhead," he muttered to himself. "You are Severus Snape; ugly, greasy Dungeon bat. Get over yourself." He had to remember that no one would want him. No one would want a death eater; no one would want an ugly man with a private, reclusive personality. Put the two together and you have the most undesirable man in the Wizarding world. "Next thing you know I'll be searching for company in the Muggle world," he growled bitterly. Of course, that would make his job half as difficult – no one in the Muggle world knew of the Death Eaters, let alone his imposing personality. With a sigh and a mental shake of the head, Severus set about his morning routine.

Could she have messed up any more? Hermione mentally berated herself for a solid fifteen minutes for her foolish actions with the potions master. How on earth had she ended up on his chest? She had to admit it had been the best night's sleep she had ever had but that didn't mean it was _right_. The man had explicitly said no form of physical contact and had arisen to find her sprawled, unladylike and possibly drooling, on his torso. He must think of her as some kind of predator! Slapping her forehead, Hermione gingerly got dressed in the comfortable jeans and checked shirt she had stowed in her bag. Donning a black hooded jacket, she could finally admit she was ready to face Severus. It would be mortifying, and she didn't know how they were supposed to carry out the operation when they were so awkward around each other, but she was sure they could manage. After all, Snape _was_ a seasoned spy, and Hermione a practised liar and actress. They could pull it off.

Trudging warily downstairs, Hermione wondered where the kitchen was. It wasn't a very large house, and very conventional so she assumed it would be towards the back of the house. It was an odd feeling, knowing that you were in the house of the most private professor at the school, but knowing that it was the man she was working with to save Harry, she didn't mind. Now… kitchen… there was a door at the end of the narrow corridor, and as Hermione edged nearer the more sure she got that this was the kitchen. She became confident in her strides, and opened the door to reveal the kitchen.

Only it wasn't there. Instead it was a beautifully decorated, deep mahogany library. She could not see the walls for the expanse of shelves, crammed with books, which wrapped higher and higher into the tower-like room. This was magically enhanced, Hermione decided; there was no way a house this size could hold such a treasure.

And there was the victim of her hearts desire; a grand piano. It was a wonderful Ivory Fazioli, carved with intricate patterns and vine-like forms. _Rather like my wand,_ Hermione mused. It was like she was drawn towards the piece, yearning to caress the keys and tease sweet melodies from its strings. Before she realised it she was at the bench, sitting down and running her fingers along the length of the keys.

"So beautiful," she whispered reverently. Without being able to resist it Hermione started playing the Moonlight Sonata, revelling in the feeling of the expensive piano under her fingertips. Gently she morphed the tune into the fierier Appassionata, and once she was done, drifted to a close.

"You play like an angel," Snape's voice drifted over from the door, which was positioned behind Hermione's back. She whirled round, startled, back onto the piano, which screeched in protest.

"Professor!" She cried, trying to calm her nerves. She always relaxed when she played but managed a trance-like state, which left her quite a vulnerable person while she played. It was only due to quick reflexes and sharp senses that she allowed herself to continue. "I am so sorry, I was looking for the kitchen and found this instead, and just couldn't help myself…" she trailed off at the odd look in his eyes. Then she realised; it was amusement. He was amused. Oh.

"Miss Granger… Hermione. It is fine for you to use the facilities of the house for the time that we are here. I do not use the piano for I have an abominable lack of musical talent. I was, if you recall, going to show you this room today anyway. However if you still seek the kitchen it is this way." The black-haired man left the room without glancing back. He found her shock hilarious and it was only years of practice in schooling his features that he managed to control his grin. It would never do for the woman to see him vulnerable… well, any more vulnerable than he had been while he was sleeping.

"Professor, I know this is a bit unorthodox but I would very much like to cook breakfast this morning, if you are unopposed to the idea?" Hermione called conversationally to the Potions Master as she followed him down the hall. She had seen his fists clench in response to his thoughts a second earlier and had decided to try to change the conversation before he became… morbid.

"If you wish, Hermione, but only if you return the gesture of informality and call me Severus. I have given up on all hope of retaining professional detachment in this mission, due to your incessant chattering and nonsense frivolities." The man growled in reply. It was hard to hear, but there was definite sarcasm and teasing in the tones that would have otherwise hurt Hermione dreadfully.

"Good to hear, Severus." She responded cheerfully, skipping to catch up with him. If nonsense frivolities were what he wanted, that would be exactly what he got. "I was thinking of a light breakfast of a Ham and Cheese Omelette; French style. Does that suit your needs? Oh, and coffee, of course. Can't have a French-themed breakfast without coffee, can we?" She laughed at the mock scowl pasted on the man's face.

"It sounds fine, Hermione. I'll just sit here and wish for death, while you potter around the kitchen all happy and obscenely lively for this time in the morning," the scowl grew more pronounced as, predictably, she danced around the kitchen, whipping up what Severus had to admit was a delicious smelling meal. Once it was cooked they sat and ate in silence. He finished quickly, groaning quietly in appreciation for the food. Why did Hermione have to be so brilliant at everything?

"Hermione," Sev started, rolling the name off his tongue. "As you cooked a more than satisfactory meal I must insist on washing the dishes. You are treating me extremely well; it's almost unnerving." Hermione looked cross, her hands on her hips.

"Severus Snape, you are obviously underfed and exhausted. You are doing amazing work for the order and I'll be damned if I let you continue a substandard quality of life. You've taken me under your wing while we find… Harry," The increasingly upset girl's voice broke on the name of her friend. "And the least I can do is pay you back in one way or another." Speech done, she sat down and buried her head in her hands, struggling to gather her composure. She had tried so hard to remain mature about the situation but she was just a seventeen year old girl whose best friends were either dead or missing.

"Hermione, you've done so well so far; you've remained strong and you really are a big help with this mission. It's so much more believable that I have accompaniment and you did so magnificently. I know I've been harsh to you but you are allowed to have emotions," Slowly the professor moved around the table to place a hand on the girl's shoulder. "You can be you. It's not a weakness for you; it's strength." With these words the bushy-haired youth threw herself into the muscular arms of her companion, tears running free.

"I'm so… afraid for Harry… what if we're too late? What if he dies? I'd have no one left! Ron killed Bellatrix for me but got himself killed in the process… Harry's all I've got left. He's my family and my best friend… I can't live without my best friend, Professor; I've already lost too much." Severus frowned, confused.

"You still have family in the Muggle world, do you not?" he queried, sitting on the tiles of his kitchen with Hermione in his lap. "I do not wish to belittle Potter's worth to you, but you will have others, even if he does not return. Which he will." The Potions Master felt the lithe girl in his arms shake even harder in response to his questions.

"No one knows but Dumbledore and us three… Bellatrix killed my parents, my entire family." Severus went completely still. The extermination of the Granger family? Why did he not know about it? How did she survive? In response to the news that quite obviously devastated the girl he merely held her closer, rocking her gently. "I rarely sleep at night; I feel like if I do my barriers will crumble, or I'll wake up and Harry'll be gone too and I'll have no one left." The small words of the bright young woman clenched at Severus' heart, breaking it.

"I'm here for you, Hermione. I'll be here," he whispered. A strong impulse came to kiss her on the top of the head, to nuzzle into her hair, to be closer to her and for once, Snape didn't restrain himself or control his impulses, merely acted on them.

"I'll be here."

* * *

A/N: Sorry it's taken so long! Serious case of writers block... any way, hope you enjoyed this much more angsty chappie, with an explanation as to why Ron got rid of Bella!

Ashes xx


	8. Chapter 8 Changes

A/N: I am so so so so so sorry for the length of time it's taken for me to update ATW. I have been so stuck as to where to go with it, trying to get another 2,500 word chapter out when I realised that I didn't need one that long, I needed a filler chapter to lead it on. So here's the chapter, please review to kill me about leaving it for so long. I promise you that this will get more attention from now on, and now I have an idea about where it's going.

* * *

"Harry Potter... you are not one to give up easily, are you boy?" Voldemort's voice slithered through the darkness to strangle Harry, choking him with fear. The only upside to this darkness was that he didn't have to pretend anymore; he could cry, and scream, and grieve all he wanted without people condemning the boy for not being strong enough. "You have survived for too long by hiding behind your friends, your family, watching as they die for you. Well now we have you, and I _will _make you suffer as you deserve to suffer. I am Lord Voldemort. You cannot hide from me any longer." Harry screamed in blinding pain as the first crucio hit him, and for the first time, wished that he could re-embrace the numbness that had encompassed him at Hogwarts.

* * *

Severus Snape was stuck. For the first time in his adult life, he was completely and utterly stuck. He had no idea what to do in his home, for the next twelve hours, with a vibrant young woman who he happened to have an ancient bond with, and who also happened to be his student. He was at an absolute loss, and didn't like it.

Luckily, Hermione had thought of the perfect activity for the pair. She hurried from the library to the kitchen, where Severus was still sitting, nursing another cup of coffee. She sat down across from him and took in his frown, his tense shoulders and lowered eyes. It was hard not to get closer to him, to slide into the chair next to his and continue where Severus and Clara left off, but she remained on her side of the table.

"Severus, I have a plan." He looked up at the decisiveness of the statement, hesitating when he really took in what she was wearing. It was practical, the checked shirt, but fit her like a glove and accentuated the curves that were so absent on his pretend fiancée. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a scruffy bun on the top of her head, face free of make-up and eyes dancing. She was the complete opposite to Clara; she was warm, and soft, and happy, whereas Clara was cold and full of edges and emotionless. He never knew how he could ever find Clara attractive, compared to the natural beauty of Hermione Granger. Realising he was staring, he returned his eyes to the table top and waited for her to continue. "We need to flesh out the Clara-Severus relationship; no one has ever seen the two of them together, except for tonight. Also, I need another dress to wear for Nyoke's party tonight, one more… alluring. They weren't intimidated by Clara last night, and they should be, so we really need something vivacious that will completely and utterly blow the men away and inspire the deepest jealousy in all of the women. We need to go to Diagon Alley, with me as Clara." She finished, smiling at her idea. Severus was pleasantly surprised at her intuitive behaviour and ingenious plan, once again raising his eyes to hers.

"Your plan is sound and, as far as I can tell, has no obvious flaws. We also need to purchase supplies for our journey tomorrow, and I suppose that paying a visit to Knockturn Alley will not go amiss, since we are supposedly Death Eaters. Well done, Hermione," She flushed with the praise, and he almost smiled at the sight of the pink spreading across her milky cheekbones. "Let us go and get you ready."

Somehow, they both knew that despite the danger of the parties, this would be their most difficult journey yet.


End file.
